


To Death and Beyond

by nagi_schwarz



Series: The Oppenheimer Effect [42]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Clan Mitchell, Crossover, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 12:23:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7170875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the comment_fic prompt: "Any, Any m/m, Adoption day."</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Death and Beyond

Damien had never seen an adoption before. Heard about them, been in the hallway at court before or after one, but never actually seen one. He could always tell when an adoption was going to happen, because the hallway was crowded with way more people than usual, and they all looked excited and happy instead of nervous and miserable. He was supposed to be at school, and his teachers would definitely notice he was missing, but - Tyler had been his best friend once, and he really did like Cammie, and he knew he’d been a jerk before, but this was Tyler’s chance to be happy. It wasn’t a chance a lot of foster kids their age got, and if Tyler got it, maybe Damien had hope for - something down the road. His parents had chosen their drugs over him. Cammie choosing Tyler was proof that adults could put their kids first.

Damien recognized Cammie’s family immediately, because they all kinda looked like him. And the old man in the wheelchair looked like Cammie probably would, decades and decades down the road. Cammie had mentioned, once, that his father had lost his legs during his service. Crashed a test plane. Cammie had done exactly the same. The Mitchells all looked like nice people - white, middle class, friendly, dressed clean and neat, like they were going to church. Judging by some of their haircuts and the way they stood (the way Lorne and sometimes even JD stood) a lot of them were soldiers. Cammie had mentioned that, too - military service was a family tradition.

Damien hadn’t expected to see Cammie roll in wearing his fancy blue uniform. Connors, Lorne, and Shep all wore their old uniforms on Veterans Day every year, but never on any other day.

One little girl tugged on her father’s hand. “Daddy, why is Uncle Cam wearing his uniform?”   


“He received the Medal of Honor,” the man said quietly. “Unlike the rest of us, he can pretty much wear his uniform whenever he wants, but he saves it for special occasions, like today.”

“Is that why everyone salutes Uncle Cam the first time he comes into a room?” the little girl asked.

The man nodded.

“What did Uncle Cam do to win a medal?”

“Something very brave, sweetie.”   


“What kind of brave thing?”

“I don’t know. It’s classified.”

Damien had heard about the dust-up between Sasha’s old man and Cammie - and his entire family - at the school yesterday, heard Cammie was ready to take the old man on. And Sasha wasn’t even going to be his kid. Damien hunkered down in the corner, pretending to read a book but still watching.

Lorne’s family was massive, too.  They all came in behind him, one woman fussing with his hair - his mother? - and another fussing with his tie - his sister? - and a couple of little kids trying to hold his hands. The rest of them were dressed nicely for court, but they obviously weren’t soldiers. Damien had heard Cammie, JD, and Shep joke about how Lorne was raised on a hippie commune. Judging by the flowers everyone was wearing in their hair, even the men, maybe the teachers hadn’t been joking about how Lorne was raised. Lorne’s family was a loud, happy mix of men, women, children, all races and shapes and sizes and colors. Their happy loudness dimmed a touch when they caught sight of Cammie’s family.

Soldiers. Hippies. 

All that was missing was girls putting flowers down the barrels of guns, like the pictures from the history books.

Rodney’s family was small - a woman, a man, a little girl. And Shep, carrying a massive box that was ornately wrapped and tied with a big bow.

He presented it to Tyler, who was sitting on a bench, wearing a suit with a blue shirt that matched Cammie’s uniform and surrounded by other kids wearing outfits in colors that matched his.

“Hi, Cousin Tyler,” the little girl said, abandoning Rodney and crawling up onto the uncomfortable wooden bench to sit beside him.

“Hi, um -”   


“Madison,” she said patiently.

“Enjoy,” Shep said, nodding to the box. “Compliments of the Sheppard Family, of course.”

Rodney raised his eyebrows. “You said they’d send money.”

“Oh, I’m sure there’s a sizeable check in the card.” Shep smiled at Tyler, who looked a little afraid of the box.

“Should I be worried?”   


“Always. Bet it’s a tux.” Shep grinned and then turned to speak to the woman beside Rodney. His sister, perhaps? She looked more like him than the man did.

Damien put his head down, pretended to read the book he’d found in the box of books that was kept under the bench. There were usually no books in there worth anything to anyone over the age of five, but if Cammie or the others noticed him, he’d have to go back to school.

Shep, Rodney, Lorne, and even JD were wearing matching suits. Where Tyler just had slacks, a button-down shirt, a vest, and a tie, the adults also had suit jackets. Standing together like they were, they looked like some old-school boy-band, like the kind that sang doo-wop.

JD, Damien knew, had no family either. He’d never gone to Memorial, knew Cammie and the others because of his uncle, who’d been in the Air Force. They didn’t treat him like a kid, ever, and he didn’t really act like one.

Most of the time.

So Damien was surprised when four people approached him. The woman was blonde, pretty, and wearing a fancy Air Force uniform. The old man looked - just like JD would, when he got older. He must’ve been the famous Uncle Jack, then. One of the men wore a suit and glasses and looked like a nerd, not a soldier. But the man beside him, wearing a sleek black suit and a fedora, was built like a mountain, and was definitely a soldier. 

“Jonathan,” the woman said, and JD turned, looked surprised but pleased.

“Carter! Daniel. T. You made it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Carter said grinning. “Rodney’s been talking about it non-stop for the past week.”

At that, Rodney’s sister punched him in the arm. “Rodney didn’t mention a thing for six months.”

“Congratulations, Jonathan Nealson,” T said. He had a deep, rumbling voice, and he bowed his head formally, like a martial arts guru.

“Thank you.” JD grinned at him.

Daniel, the man with the glasses, actually stepped forward and pulled JD into a hug, said something only JD could hear. He nodded and stepped back. Then he turned to his uncle.

“You came.”

Uncle Jack wore an expression that Damien couldn’t read. The people standing around him watched him nervously, but then he reached out, squeezed JD’s shoulder, and he said, “Do it right this time.”

JD swallowed hard. “I will.”   


“He already is,” Rodney said quietly.

And then Lorne spotted Uncle Jack and jumped. “General O’Neill, sir!”

Cammie’s relatives came to attention at the word _General._  

“At ease, Major,” Uncle Jack said.

“Mom,” Lorne said, “this is Major General Jack O’Neill. He was my CO.”

Lorne’s mother shook Uncle Jack’s hand politely, but there was wariness in her eyes.

And then Cammie’s dad said, “Well, I’ll be, if it isn’t Baby Wingnut Jack O’Neill.”

Uncle Jack turned, and when he saw Cammie’s dad, he immediately went and shook his hand. “Born Again Frank Mitchell. I didn’t realize Major Mitchell was one of those Mitchells.”

Cammie shot JD a horrified look, but JD just shrugged.

“You two know each other?” Cammie’s mom asked.

“Jack was just starting test pilot school when I was graduating,” Frank said. “Major General, is it?”

Some of Cammie’s cousins stood a little taller and straighter.

“It is now,” Uncle Jack said.

“You came for Cameron?”

“For my - nephew. JD.”

Frank raised his eyebrows, and there was a fraught silence, but then the bailiff stepped out into the hallway.

“Everyone on the Guerrera matter?”

As one, all but two of the people in the hallway surged toward the courtroom doors. There was some scrambling to get doors held open for those in wheelchairs. Damien plunked himself on the back bench closest to the doors while everyone else arranged themselves on the benches in the gallery, Cammie's family on one side, Lorne's family on the other, like a wedding. Rodney and JD's family sat with Cammie's on the bench just behind where JD, Lorne, Shep, and Rodney were sitting.

Tyler’s lawyer, Tyler’s caseworker, the caseworker’s lawyer, and Cammie’s lawyer were all already in there. Cammie wheeled himself up to the table beside his lawyer, and Tyler went and sat beside him.

“Well,” said Judge Whitmer, “it’s great to see so many people here in support of Tyler.” He chuckled and added, “And it looks like we have enough brass in here for a foundry.”

Some of the soldiers laughed.

“Is this everybody?” the judge asked.

The bailiff nodded. “I believe so, Your Honor. We’re here in the interest of Tyler Guerrera. Please state your names for the record.”

“Naomi Cartwright for Cameron Mitchell, the adoptive father.”

“Ralph Gray, for the state.”

“Fiona Chapman, caseworker.”

“Cassandra Brown, Tyler’s attorney.”

“And of course, Tyler himself.” The judge smiled. “Ms. Cartwright, you may proceed.”

The caseworker and Cammie were both sworn in, and then the caseworker took the stand. While she was walking up there, Cammie’s lawyer said,

“I move the court to take judicial notice of the termination of parental rights of Tyler Guerrera’s biological parents,” she said.

Damien flinched. His parents had just given him up, signed away their rights in court one day. He hadn’t known about it till after his caseworker told him. He remembered how stressed out Tyler had been, knowing the trial against his parents was going on without him.

“I will take judicial notice of those terminations,” the judge said. “Proceed.”

Cammie’s lawyer stepped up to the fancy lectern in the middle of the courtroom and began questioning the caseworker, just like on TV. The caseworker testified about background checks and kinship searches, handed lots of papers over to the judge.

Damien was about ready to fall asleep when the lawyer said, “In your opinion, is it in Tyler’s best interest to be adopted by Mr. Mitchell?”

“Absolutely,” the caseworker said. “Every child deserves permanency, and Cam has given Tyler the family he should have had all along.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I’ve seen them together on my monthly home visits. Cam obviously loves Tyler, treats him as one of the family. Tyler was made part of the household from day one. He participates in every family activity, he’s involved in every major family decision. The bond between them is very strong.”

“And do you consent to Mr. Mitchell adopting Tyler Guerrera?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you. Please sign the consent form and hand it to the judge.”

The caseworker bent over to sign a piece of paper, and while she was handing it to the judge, Cammie’s lawyer said, “No further questions, Your Honor.”

The judge accepted the piece of paper. “Anything from the state?”

“No, Your Honor,” said the caseworker’s attorney.

“And from the guardian?”

“Not at this time, Your Honor.”

The judge signed the consent form as well and handed it over to the clerk, then told the caseworker she was excused, and she scurried back to the desk beside her lawyer.

“May my client remain at counsel table?” Cammie’s lawyer asked.

The judge nodded. “Of course.”

Cammie’s lawyer turned toward him and began asking him questions. His name. His address. Whether he understood a bunch of legal things. If he’d reviewed the agreement to adopt. Whether he was over the age of eighteen.

And then she asked, “Could you explain to the court why you wish to adopt Tyler?”

“With or without crying?” Cammie asked, and there was laughter from the gallery. He swiped a hand over his face. “I - well. I used to imagine having kids. You know, picket fence, wife, dog, kids. And then - I literally crashed and burned. And I resigned myself to living with a bunch of punks and just teaching for the rest of my life. Told myself I didn’t want kids beyond students, and I wasn’t meant to be a father, and being a teacher was okay. And then it turned out a kid wanted me, and I realized I could be a father, and Tyler is a great kid. I always liked him in class, even though sometimes he frustrated the living daylights out of me. Sometimes still does. He’s funny and kind and he sings along with us on karaoke night and -” Cammie reached out, grasped Tyler’s shoulder. “I love you to death, kid. To death and beyond, okay? You’re mine, and I’m yours, and we can’t get rid of each other. Ever. You hear me?”

Damien closed his eyes, swallowed hard. He’d wanted to hear those words, just a fraction of those words, all his life. When he opened his eyes, Tyler was nodding and sniffling, and Cammie’s lawyer handed him a box of tissue.

Cammie’s lawyer asked a few more questions, had Cammie sign a paper, and then she submitted the paper to the judge.

The judge waited a moment for Cammie and Tyler to blow their noses.

Cammie’s mom said, “Cameron, I gave you a handkerchief! Be civilized!” And there was more laughter.

The judge signed the papers Cammie’s lawyer had given him, asked the state and the guardian if they had any questions, but of course they didn’t.

“And the guardian’s recommendation?”

Tyler’s lawyer rose up. “I absolutely recommend that Tyler be adopted by Mr. Mitchell. Tyler’s in the best place he can be, with the best possible family, and I know that with all the love and support of his family, he will succeed.”

“Thank you. Now.” The judge turned to Tyler. “You’re not officially adopted yet. This piece of paper right here?” He held it up. “This is the Decree of Adoption. Once I sign it, you are officially adopted. Do you know what adoption means, Tyler?”

“It means this is my forever family.”

The judge nodded. “That’s right. But there’s something you need to realize. Mr. Mitchell’s not just adopting you. His whole family is. And you’re adopting them right back. Are you ready for that? To be a cousin and an uncle and a grandson? Look behind you, Tyler. This is your new family.”

Tyler twisted around in his chair, and Damien hunched down immediately to avoid being seen.

The judge asked, “Do you still want me to sign this?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Then,” said the judge, scribbling on the piece of paper, “I decree that you, Tyler Guerrera Mitchell, are officially the adopted son of Cameron Mitchell, legally entitled to all the rights and privileges of a natural-born child. Congratulations.”

Everyone applauded.

Tyler was smiling so hard Damien thought his face had to be hurting.

“One more thing,” the judge said. “Mr. Gray?”   


The caseworker’s attorney stood up. “In light of the adoption, I move the court to end jurisdiction over Tyler, close the case, and release the appointment of the guardian.” He raised his eyebrow at Cammie. “Unless you want us to keep him in state’s custody?”   


“No,” Cammie said, so vehemently that everyone laughed.

“In that case, custody of Tyler Guerrera Mitchell is granted to his father, Cameron Mitchell, jurisdiction over him is ended, the state’s case is closed, and I release Ms. Brown with a vote of thanks.”

“Thank you, Your Honor,” Tyler’s lawyer said.

“One final thing,” the judge said, and Damien, who’d started to rise so he could get out before he was noticed, plopped back down in his seat.

The judge reached under the bench and came up with a fluffy white teddy bear with a giant red bow around its neck. “Now, I know you’re seventeen and you probably outgrew these long ago, but it’s tradition. Every child who gets adopted gets an adoption bear. When my son was adopted, he also got one of these bears, and he’s kept it his entire life. Once he moved out, he entrusted its care to me, and I have it in my closet, but when he comes by, he checks on it. Reminds himself of his adoption day and everything it means to be part of a family.”

Tyler nodded, and Cammie’s lawyer urged him to go up and accept the bear.

“And now, if you like,” the judge said, “you can take pictures.”

It seemed like everyone had a camera.

The judge, halfway down off the bench to come join in for pictures, paused. “Whoa. It’s like paparazzi down there.”

There was more laughter.

Lorne, Shep, JD, and Rodney surged forward to hug Tyler, and then Cammie’s lawyer, who had a fancy, professional-looking camera, started calling people forward for pictures. First just Tyler and Cammie with the judge, then Tyler, JD, Lorne, and Cammie with the judge, then Shep and Rodney in too with the judge, then just the kids in their cute little matching outfits, then each man’s extended family, then -

Damien slipped out of the courtroom, tucked his hands in his pockets, picked up his backpack, and hit the road.


End file.
